


It was not by their sword that they won the land

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [239]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Bucky Barnes is so tragic, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Gen, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Child, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the seventh day, the little girl stands in front of him, spine straight, head held high, and says, “Hi.” </p><p>He gathers his words slowly, but he finally returns, “Hello.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: It was not by their sword that they won the land  
> Disclaimer: the ex-Winter Soldier and Captain America aren’t mine  
> Warnings: references to the Winter Soldier’s experiences at Hydra  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 640  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Avengers movieverse, Bucky Barnes, "I was born twice." Bucky having to learn the most simplest, basic things all over again. [Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex] 
> 
> Note: in real life, I do not condone little girls hanging out with strange men in parks. Not at all. Please don’t do it.

Later, much later, he thinks, _I was born twice._

.

Fear is something he never loses. Rage. Hate. Despair. Too, he can walk and talk (though his vocabulary is small), aim and fire, read and write (though missions have not called for either in a long time). He remembers how to drink but not what is necessary to drink. The necessity of food, he loses until he sees non-combatants putting – something in their mouths, bringing their teeth together, swallowing. He wonders if such an action might appease the pain in the middle of his body. He knows how to relieve waste and clean himself. 

He has many skills, all hard-won, and he utilizes them to steal what is learns is called _food_. He eats and is sick; he eats something else in smaller quantities and is not sick. He makes his way along the coast, eating different things, drinking water (and only water, for that was a hard lesson) and sleeping when his body newly-awakened signals tell him so. 

He is afraid. Angry. He ignores the hatred and despair for there is no outlet, and – non-combatants are not targets. There are no targets, not unless… but he turns from the thought and focuses on the – the – not painful? smell. 

There are trucks that carry food, which non-combatants drive, and cook and sell. He has money because of his many skills and he buys a warm sandwich, goes to a nearby park, settles in the back beneath trees, and eats. Once, he can almost remember, he had loved food. He was hungry often, so that… little girls could eat. And the small man, whose name he can almost whisper, sometimes. 

Names are something he does not fully understand. His handlers had names they called each other. He had a designation, like the guns and knives they gave him for their missions. To his face, he was only _asset_. Sometimes, not even that. 

He has a name, he thinks. The target – ex-target – Captain America… 

He shakes off the thoughts so that he can eat the sandwich bite by bite, to feel the different textures of the layers, the tastes. He does not have words for the tastes, and he licks them off his fingers when the entire sandwich is gone. 

It is a – adequate? Good? Nice? Whatever the word, it is that kind of day. Somewhere between winter and spring, neither too warm nor too cold, with a wind that rustles the leaves above him. He watches the young children and their keepers, the old non-combatants and their dogs, the sun as it crosses the sky. 

He notices the dark-skinned girl notice him. He leaves then.

.

He returns the next day. And the next. He – the trees are – he thinks that he misses words. Once, they were familiar, he knows that. He finds a building of books, and within it a dictionary. He spends all of one morning reading it. 

Now he has the words, but still is unsure of how to piece them together. 

But. _Pleasing. Pleasant. Want. Desire_. 

He enjoys sitting beneath the trees and watching non-combatants live.

The little girl continues noticing, and slowly comes closer. On the seventh day, the little girl stands in front of him, spine straight, head held high, and says, “Hi.” 

He gathers his words slowly, but he finally returns, “Hello.” 

There is fear in him. And anger. Hatred and despair. He has known them longer than anything else, and he knows they have no place beneath these trees. 

And now, watching this strange little non-combatant child sit down, hearing her ask, “Wanna hear a joke?” he feels something else. 

Because of the book of words, he knows it is _excitement_. 

He does not know many things. But he does want to hear a joke (something meant to be funny?), so he says, “Yes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: It was not by their sword that they won the land  
> Disclaimer: the ex-Winter Soldier and Captain America aren’t mine  
> Warnings: references to the Winter Soldier’s experiences at Hydra; post-WS by about a month, though here the movie happened very early in the year  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 2185  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Avengers Universe, Bucky Barnes, children love him. He has no idea why. 
> 
> Note: in real life, I do not condone little girls hanging out with strange men in parks. Not at all. Please don’t do it.

The man in the park is sad. Fatima has seen him every day for the past week, sitting towards the back, in the shadow of the old trees. She hasn’t pointed him out to anyone because he just sits there. She sneaks a little closer every day, as stealthy as she can, even though Farid has told her she’s not stealthy at all. She knows she is.

The man in the park is sad, and Fatima doesn’t like it when people are sad. And today’s the day she’s determined to meet him. 

Mama didn’t come to the park today, only Farid and Aunt Aisha. Aunt Aisha is completely focused on her phone, and Farid is playing basketball with his friends down the street, so Fatima stealthily sneaks all the way to the man in the shadow of the old trees. 

“Hi,” she says, standing as tall as she can. She’s taller than everyone else in her class, though Farid towers over her the way he says all older brothers should. She can tell that if the man stood up, he’d be taller still. Probably as tall as Papa, or taller. 

“Hello,” the man replies after a moment. His voice is as sad as his face.

“Wanna hear a joke?” she asks, deciding to sit down across from him. His clothes are old and smell dirty, but it’d be rude to say so. And besides, he already knows. That might be why he’s sad.

“Yes,” the man says. It sounds questioning, like he’s not sure. His gaze (blue like the sky) keeps going from her to the grass to his hands resting on his thighs. 

“Laralyn told me this one, okay,” Fatima says. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” 

He almost smiles; she can see it in the corner of his mouth, in his eyes. “Why?” 

Fatima nearly ruins the punch line by laughing too soon. “To get away from the lobsters!” she announces, doubling over with laughter.

He doesn’t laugh, but she can see he wants to. He looks a little confused, too. “Wanna hear another?” she asks. 

The man sounds sure when he says, “Yes.” 

.

Fatima knows the man is her secret, but he’d finally laughed at one of Laralyn’s _worst_ jokes, so she decides she has to tell her best friend. She makes Laralyn swear on her kitten Dana to not tell anybody in the whole world but the next day at school, Laralyn’s older sister Rissa marches over to Fatima and says, “If you don’t want me telling my parents about the strange guy in the park, you’d better introduce me to him this afternoon.” 

Before Fatima can even glare at her, Laralyn’s crying, “She heard me tell Dana!” 

Rissa is already in high school, so after making Fatima promise, she hurries to her own school. “I’m sorry!” Laralyn sobs, actually crying. This is the first big secret Fatima’s ever shared so she just hugs Laralyn and starts talking about Star Wars, which is Mama’s favorite movie. Laralyn hasn’t seen it yet, but Fatima assures her she’d really like Chewie. 

By the time they have to go to homeroom, Laralyn’s calmed down and thankfully, none of the monitors saw. For the rest of the day, neither of them mention the man in the park. 

.

“I already texted Mom and Mrs. Hamid,” Rissa says that afternoon. “We have two hours at the park and then we gotta go home and do homework. C’mon.” She herds them both towards Fatima’s usual bus. Today is Farid’s soccer practice, so that’s good. Fatima’s not supposed to tell, but her brother _really_ likes Rissa, even though he’s still in junior high with Fatima and Laralyn. (He says it doesn’t count, though, ‘cause he’s in eighth grade. Practically a high schooler, while she and Laralyn are still babies in sixth.) 

Rissa spends the ride on her phone; Laralyn asks about Star Wars, so Fatima tells her about Anakin and Padme and their doomed love. (Of course, she doesn’t mention the _epic_ spoiler. Mama had fussed at her for spoiling Aunt Aisha about Darth Vader.)

They leave the bus a block from the park and Rissa lets Fatima take the lead. “We gotta be quiet,” Fatima tells them. “He’s shy. I think something bad happened to him. He forgot how to laugh.” 

Rissa mutters something but Fatima ignores her. The man’s waiting beneath the trees, watching them come with something that looks – he looks _afraid_. Like the dog Aunt Aisha had adopted from the rescue place, the one Mama still won’t let her and Farid go near. But Aunt Aisha had said the dog wasn’t bad, he just had to relearn kindness. 

“Hi,” Fatima says, dropping down. Laralyn follows her instantly, but Rissa stays standing, eyes on the man. “This is my best friend Laralyn and her big sister, Rissa. They’re nice, I promise. Just like me.” 

“Laralyn,” the man repeats. He glances at Laralyn, then up at Rissa, and then keeps his eyes on the ground. “Laralyn told the jokes.” 

“Yup,” Fatima agrees.

“What happened to your arm?” Rissa asks softly. 

Today, the man’s dirty shirt is frayed on the left arm. Something glints like metal and Fatima tilts her head, trying to get a better look without moving toward him. 

“I don’t know,” the man says. “It hurt.” 

“I have better jokes,” Rissa says. “But first – are you getting enough food?” 

He blinks up at her like he doesn’t know the answer. 

“Okay,” Rissa says after a moment. She settles beside Laralyn. “So, this is joke our brother Les told me.” 

.

As they’re leaving the park, Rissa says, “Fatima, you’re coming home with us. We have to plan.” 

.

Rissa draws up a schedule for providing the man with snacks and then plunders Les’ old room for clothes he doesn’t wear. She gives Fatima water duty since Farid always has bottled water. Laralyn is tasked with finding reading material and old towels. 

“We can’t all go over there every day,” Rissa tells them. “But…” She bites her lip for a moment before shaking her head. “No. Look, tomorrow, I need to speak to him alone, okay? And then I’ll explain our schedule.” 

“Why?” Fatima demands. The man in the park is hers – she found him. She made him laugh. None of Rissa’s jokes today managed that. And he listened with an almost-smile when she told him all about Yoda’s awesomeness. 

“I can’t tell you yet,” Rissa says. She reaches down with a small smile and picks an old Captain Ameribear off the floor, from where he’s half under the bed. “Lara,” she asks, “do you still have Mom’s old Bucky Bear?” 

“I think so,” Laralyn says, but Fatima knows that she does. Rissa has to, too – the Bucky Bear is in a place of honor on Laralyn’s shelf. 

“I need to borrow it for tomorrow,” Rissa says. “Please, I promise I’ll explain.” 

“Okay,” Laralyn says reluctantly. After she gently hands the bear to Rissa, she and Fatima go downstairs to do their homework and can’t talk about anything important because Laralyn’s dad is cooking dinner in the kitchen.

.

The next day, Fatima stays on the swings while Laralyn’s at piano practice and Rissa visits the man beneath the trees. After she’s done, Rissa comes over and sinks into the swing next to Fatima. “He won’t be here tomorrow,” Rissa tells her, both Captain Ameribear and Bucky Bear poking out the top of her backpack. “And probably not the next day. But he’ll be back on Saturday, for sure.” 

“What’d you have to talk about that was so important?” Fatima asks, trying not to sound like a little kid. 

Rissa smiles, reaching down to pat Bucky Bear’s head. “I just wanted him to know that there are people who care.” She stands up, shouldering her backpack. “C’mon, Fatima, I need to get you home.” 

“What about you?” Fatima grabs her own bag from the grass and dodges a little boy racing a girl to the empty swings. 

Rissa glances back at the trees, but the man is gone. “I need to message some people,” she says. She pauses, reaching out to put a hand on Fatima’s shoulder. “Look, you’ve done a good job,” she says. Her dark eyes are warm and this is the most serious Fatima has ever seen Laralyn’s laughing big sister. “And I know you want him to be your secret. But he needs more help than you can provide on your own, and –” Rissa sighs heavily. “It’s up to us, Fatima.”

“Who are you going to message?” Fatima asks.

“Some friends,” Rissa says. “Don’t worry. They’ll want to help him as much as I do.” 

Fatima narrows her eyes. “Did he tell you his name?” 

Rissa chuckles, shaking her head. “He told me what someone told him it was. He doesn’t know for sure.” 

Glancing back towards the trees, Fatima says, “He’s so sad, Rissa.” 

Rissa hugs her, way better than Farid does, and murmurs, “It’ll be alright, Fatima. I promise.” She pulls back, adding, “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you home.” 

.

Twice a week, Fatima visits the man beneath the trees. She always brings some sort of food. Once a week, Laralyn visits, and Rissa on a different day. The rest of the time, the man goes somewhere else and one of Rissa’s friends sees him. 

Fatima tells him stories – about school, about her family, about her favorite movies and books and shows. She updates him on how Aunt Aisha’s dog is doing, and he smiles at her the day she tells him she finally pet the dog, because Mama finally let her actually met him. Sometimes, she complains about math and how hard it is; the numbers just don’t make sense to her, the way they do Laralyn. 

One day, the man says, “I can explain that,” and then he does, using a stick to write in the dirt. The next day, she remembers and aces a pop quiz. It’s her first A on a math pop quiz all year. She brings her math homework to the park after that.

.

By the time school lets out, the man is smiling every visit and he’s begun (softly, hesitantly) holding up his end of the conversation. His clothes are still old, but no longer dirty. He shaves and washes his hair and he says, “Thank you” when they leave. 

It’s a Wednesday, the first week of summer break, and the man beneath the trees is no longer sad. 

“Fatima,” he says before she sits down, “it’s time for me to go.” 

Rissa had said that eventually he would need to go, their secret man in the park. And that when that time came, they would have to let him without crying or begging for him to stay. Fatima wonders if he and Rissa had talked about it, because just yesterday, Rissa had handed Fatima a brand new Bucky Bear in his shiny blue coat and told her to give it to him. 

“Here,” Fatima says now, holding it out. The man smiles, taking it in his left hand, the one that’s always gloved. She sees, though, between the glove and his sleeve, that it’s silver. She’s never asked about his arm.

“Thank you,” the man says. “And to all your friends. You have…” He pulls gently at the Bucky Bear’s ear, smooths a finger along the coat. “You have been kind.” 

“I just didn’t want you to be sad anymore,” Fatima tells him. 

“I’m not,” he says, setting the bear beside him. 

Fatima slowly, the way she approaches Aunt Aisha’s dog, leans down and puts her arms around him. She barely squeezes him and pulls back. “I hope you find your way home,” she says. 

“I think I will,” he says. And then again, “Thank you.” 

She nods firmly, determining not to cry because there is _no reason_ to cry, and she turns and marches away. 

.

“You did an amazing thing, Fatima,” Rissa tells her, holding her tight while Fatima cries. “You have no idea how amazing.” 

She still doesn’t know his name. She could ask Rissa, but that’s not the same as him telling her. 

She doesn’t go back to the park for over a month, and then it’s with Aunt Aisha, walking Rocky the pit bull. 

The man isn’t beneath the trees, of course, but she guides Aunt Aisha and Rocky up there, and she tells Aunt Aisha a story about a traveling gunslinger that helps people to make up for his dark past. The plot is a little similar to a movie she and Papa watched on AMC the other night, but that’s not important. (She looked it up later; there’s a book, too. She put a hold on it at the library.)

. 

She learns his name when Captain America holds a press conference announcing that Sergeant James Barnes was held prisoner by Hydra for over 70 years. And there he is, the man from the park, standing clean and tall beside Captain America. 

“Isn’t that something,” Mama says. 

Fatima goes upstairs, calls Laralyn, and shrieks incoherently into the phone.


End file.
